Friends In Need
by Some1Else
Summary: After losing his hand again, Ocelot finds an entire hospital against him once he discovers that his insurance provider has dropped him. At a time like this, there is only one person he can trust. Solid Snake. Beggers can't be choosers.
1. Malpractice

**Story #3 : Friends In Need.**

**By Some1Else.**

**Chapter 1 : Malpractice.**

Snake was in the grip of a horrible nightmare. In his terrible dream, he saw the duck on the rack, screaming in pain and looking to him for any kind of help he'd be capable of giving. He was stuck inside of a room that was straight out of Silent Hill. Blood covered the walls and the floor he stood on was filthy. The only clean thing in the room was the torture rack, which had been polished to a mirror sheen. Snake was unable to assist the duck because he was too busy trying to get his dogs to stop talking to him. In the background, Reece had finally managed to secure the Stinger missile launcher and was abusing his discovery freely. Reece had the rocket launcher strapped to his back and somehow managed to fire it just by barking.

Ocelot's disembodied maniacal laughter could be heard amongst the chaos, but Revolver himself was nowhere to be seen. Eventually the duck exploded as it always had before, and Snake cried out in sorrow. He then collapsed to the ground on his knees and hid his face in shame while his dogs began to viciously mock him for not doing anything to save the duck. Several Metal Gear models scaled down to the size of expensive collectible figurines walked into the room and began dancing to Hare Hare Yukai as it played in the background. That was the worst part of this reoccurring nightmare, but fortunately it was also always the last and only occurred when Snake was dumb enough to watch The Melancholy of Haruhi Suzumiya before going to bed.

Snake awoke violently. Sweat was pouring down his face and his heart felt as though it were about to leap out of his chest in an explosion of gore. His shirt was soaked, as was the upper half of his bed. He breathed in deeply and exhaled slowly, reminding himself that it was only a dream. As he had predicted earlier, he now had random violent PTSD recollections of the dinner incident in his sleep. Snake sighed and reached over to his bedside table and searched for the bottle of Diazepam and the glass of water he always kept there for moments such as this. He found both of them and swallowed one pill and drank half the glass of water before returning them to their original placements. Slowly his heartbeat returned to normal as a feeling of relaxation swept through him. He sighed in relief and then used his arm to wipe the sweat off his forehead. Snake shook his head and cursed Ocelot's sadism.

All his bad deeds had finally caught up to him, though. Grey Fox had once again cut off Ocelot's hand. Unlike last time he performed the action to earn some money. At least that's what they all figured. Fox hadn't been very specific. That wasn't one of his stronger character traits. The main point was that a neighbor had complained about Ocelot possibly torturing animals during his spare time without a license. Fox had been sent in to punish Revolver if he discovered any sort of mistreatment dealt to nature's furry friends. Apparently he was also instructed to take Ocelot's hand as a sign he'd been there ifRevolver was indeed committing a crime. As a result, Ocelot was now in the hospital. Snake began to wonder how he was doing.

Revolver would obviously have to spend a few weeks in treatment while the doctors replaced his hand and gave him medication for the pain. He recalled what had happened after the unusual diner at Ocelot's and the subsequent cow tipping that followed, which everyone considered an absolute riot. They went to Dairy Queen to celebrate and keep the people there working just a bit longer as it was exactly five minutes until closing time. They then wound up at Otacon's house where they fiddled with a couple experimental inventions he'd been building while he set up a game of Catan. Through four games Snake consistently harvested more wheat than anything else and couldn't wiggle his way towards a port dedicated to trading wheat since Campbell kept blocking his progress.

Once that was done, they decided to watch some movies. Feeling rather giddy, Otacon decided to pop in _Hooligan and the Quest for the Seven Holy Dildo's_ but Snake stopped him as an evening of comedy porn with Meryl and Roy wouldn't work out so well. After trying _Sakura Diaries _and _Excel Saga_, both of which Snake rejected, he asked Otacon if he had any anime that didn't have anatomically incorrect half naked women jumping around everywhere with no regard for shame. In response to that Hal picked out _Ghost In the Shell: Stand Alone Complex _and Snake finally consented because he figured everyone could relate to that show. Roy, who had never seen any anime before, picked up on it rather well. Otacon chuckled lightly and went over to his bookcase. He kept all his hentai in a shoe box on top of the structure. He hid it for the evening just as a safety precaution. This was the primary reason he stashed his porn in the box. It was easier to hide that way.

Otacon figured it'd eventually come in handy when he had a chick over he was hoping to score points with. She would obviously be very pleased to find no porn in Otacon's house, but that would be wishful thinking. Nearly every man had some naked ladies hidden somewhere in his home. Sometimes they came by nightly, but that was another story and a service Otacon chose not to afford. Snake sighed in relief and was pleased at Hal's foresight because sure enough the colonel soon went looking through Otacon's collection for harder stuff, wondering aloud if those cartoon babes ever got naked. Meryl, on the other hand, fell asleep during the third episode half-way on and half-way off the couch.

Campbell soon succumbed to sleepiness as well. Snake decided to spare Otacon the trouble of giving him a ride home that evening so he decided to spend the night at Otacon's house. The next morning Otacon slipped Snake a copy of Dark, saying he would probably like what he saw. He then drove everyone back to their respective denizens of homely ownership. Snake humored Otacon and watched the DVD as soon as he could. After bathing three times in a row he briefly wondered if that show could spoil food. Deciding that was ridiculous yet worth trying out he hid the DVD along with a can of ravioli that wouldn't expire for three more years to test out his theory. Unfortunately, he hid it in a spot that he intentionally forgot about. This made him feel better and the aftershocks of the show soon dissipated.

It had been almost two weeks since that fateful outing and even longer since his dogs had started talking to him. Since then, everything had returned to normal. Well, not entirely. Roy had brought back Snake's M-9 a few days ago. He had accomplished what he had hoped for with the aid of the tranquilizer darts. Additionally, he had worked the situation out with his wife, which had coincidentally been exacerbated to the point of her almost leaving him for a month or so due to the fact that he had actually shot her. He reaffirmed his claim that he would no longer need to look at pornography for pleasure as he would now seek out his wife when he required adult stimulation. It was almost comical. Him taking command of the situation and using a gun on her had returned their relationship to what it had been when they first met on the battlefield as enemies. She was a South Korean patriot willing to set herself on fire in protest. He was but a soldier on leave. It was a long story.

Even with the apparent evidence that Roy was now paying more attention to his wife than he was to those sultry naked centerfolds, Snake knew that Campbell would eventually return to his old habit. It was just the kind of person he was. Snake shook his head in sorrow for Campbell and began to wonder how Roy's wife had managed to live with him for so long. It was evident that Campbell's wife had an incredible amount of patience and love for her perverted husband. She also put up with his constant fibbing and kept in shape so she was still moderately attractive. Campbell was lucky to have that. Snake felt a tinge of envy cross his mind. But why?

Snake went further into himself and began to question where that emotion had come from. It didn't take him long to figure it out. He wondered if it wouldn't be a bad idea to pursue a relationship. After all, he was finally willing to give it a try before it was too late and his advanced aging really started to kick in. Since the odd and still enigmatic dog-talking experience, he had become a better person. No longer did he have his evil short temper or his overbearing pessimistic attitude. That sort of made him available, but it didn't really matter. Most of the people in town were kids compared to his age and the women who were in their mid thirties like he was already had someone. Those that weren't were probably desperate and willing to start a family right away after the marriage they would force to occur after six months of dating.

Then again, there was that whole issue of advanced aging and the fact that his life could catch up with him at any moment. Selfish desires were of less importance than the virtues Snake tried to abide by. Someone outside of the group he knew was completely out of the question. Snake would take in all the friends he could, but he couldn't let anyone get too close to him. Snake stopped letting his mind wander and got right to the point with himself. He was bored out of his mind and occasionally felt a little lonely. That was normal as this was his life alone to live, especially with all the burdens he was forced to carry. Even so, he began to go over all the women he knew of that had a stable attitude toward him. Naomi came to mind first, but she was out of the question. Since she had tried to kill him that pretty much ruined her chances of becoming friends with him.

They'd bumped into each other previously at the supermarket. This was the first time they had seen each other since their scene at the coffee bar and Snake wasn't expecting to make up with her there, especially in the meat section with the freezers on so high that they were chillier than the stupid market itself. They were also right in front of the employee storage room. It added to the awkwardness. The smell of apples and meat wafted out as the workers entered and exited. Snake, trying to be polite, listened to Naomi and nodded his head, noting that as the conversation drew on her speech began to slur as a result of her mouth going numb from so much talking. After twenty minutes he decided to end their meeting in the most considerate way possible. Snake picked up a turkey and pretended to examine it. This shut her up as she paused to assess what he was doing with the chunk of poultry. Snake lobbed the turkey over Naomi's shoulder to throw her off.

"Whoops, I seem to have dropped that." Snake lied. "Could you possibly pick it up for me?"

When she turned her back to him, Snake darted into the storage room and hid inside a cardboard box. From the slit in the box he observed Naomi look around, bewildered, holding the dirty bird with both her hands. She shrugged and put the hunk of meat back before leaving. Snake sighed in relief. He then discovered he'd hid inside a box full of packaged cinnamon rolls and since nobody had seen him come in, he helped himself. It was inconsiderate, but _Grandma's Buns _were just too damn good to pass up when they were right there in front of him for free. When his stomach was full and the coast was clear, he ran out the back exit with plans to never visit that particular grocery store again. After all, Naomi could have been a regular.

Mei Ling was the next person he thought of. She was Asian, young, and nice. But mostly Asian. That was always a big plus. On the other hand, she already had a boyfriend who was incredibly elusive. Nobody knew who he was or even what he looked like. It didn't help that Mei Ling wouldn't say who he was. Whoever the tweak happened to be, Mei Ling assured everyone that she was very happy with him. That wasn't good enough. Snake had once stalked her out of interest just to see if he could get a glimpse of her dude. This was shortly after she'd turned down an invitation to the movies with him. Snake emphasized it was a friendly outing and that Meryl, Raven, and Otacon were all going but she declined, saying it might hurt her boyfriends feelings. Snake took his rage out on the popcorn, consuming more than three extra largetubs full of the stuff.

His stalking mission didn't go over well. Otacon had been very disappointed. With Mei Ling out of the picture, Nastasha was the next prospect on his list. They seemed to have a lot in common. They both liked to smoke and they enjoyed talking about terrorists. However, Nastasha breath was something dangerously close to demonic and her teeth were as yellow as the pages in an old paperback book that had been urinated on by the family dog after being incubated in the basement for one entire summer and read by about twenty different people not related to the family that owned the dog. Snake couldn't kiss something like that much less look her in the eye when she was talking. She didn't use second hand cigs either. Nastasha preferred the real thing and smoked enough in one setting to recreate the atmosphere on Venus wherever she happened to be.

She was quite capable of filling up the smoking section of a restaurant entirely by herself. Snake had not seen this himself but he'd heard about it from the other members of FOX-PALS. She was a good person to hang around with, but only if there were some mints on hand. Next on the list was Meryl. He'd heard from Otacon that she'd recently cut her hair and now resembled some character on some SNES RPG that Snake had never played. Meryl had the best build next to Mei Ling and could probably become a model if she wanted to. Just the thought of her posing in a wet swimming suit was enough to make some men wish they had baggier jeans. That was only for men that liked beefier women, though. Meryl was fairly muscular and wouldn't hesitate to put someone in a wrist lock if they got a little too personal. She seemed to connect with him. Meryl also understood him better than most people in spite of the shortcomings he would have in the future.

It came quite rudely to his attention that he had run out of women to consider. At least the ladies he knew of lived within his immediate area. None of them were exactly ideal, but if he had to choose he might just go for Meryl. She was worth trying out, at least. Always had been, in fact. He needed to be careful not to take advantage of her ignorance as Snake believed she had a thing for him. Any error he made would have disastrous consequences. Besides, there were other things to worry about that were more important. A woman should have been the last thing on his mind, but they were still nice to think about. After all, he could be called back into action at any minute even if he didn't want to go. Apparently in no matter what condition he was in, the only statement put on the top secret paperwork that negated practically everything else and allowed the brass to own his ass was simply the fact that he _was _Solid Snake. At least that sort of thing didn't happen very often.

If there was one thing he knew he should constantly mull over it was how the hell Big Boss was still alive. He'd learned a few days earlier that the dead man was indeed alive and well. This information was sent to him by Campbell in a manilla envelope that contained several documents. Roy noted it was to return the favor of borrowing Snake's M-9 as sharing this information freely wasn't exactly allowed. Inside the envelope was a full dossier that included, among other things, Boss' current medical condition. Severe burn damage to the chest and back were among several of the ailments listed. A couple of photo's were attached that depicted Big Boss speaking discretely to a couple of important looking men inside the safety of a private penthouse. Another showed him shirtless in a hot tub with a pair of familiar looking women that Big Boss seemed less than thrilled to be around. Upon further inspection Snake noted that they were Japanese models with J-cups. Another picture showed him in a woman's bathroom somewhere next to the tampon dispenser looking rather silly. The last was a mug shot of him grinning rather broadly. He still looked rather old and had his eyepatch on the _other _eye. His good one. From the way his face looked it didn't take long to figure out that he was severally drunk in the picture. He still even had that damn shaggy beard.

A thirty page report was also included. On top of every page was written "highly classified" but Campbell crossed out most of them and replaced it with "negligible threat" until he began getting bored and replaced his writing with stamps that bore a smiley face before quitting entirely on the tenth page. According to what Snake had read, Big Boss had last been spotted in Las Vegas. The enigmatic former owner of Zanzibar Land happened to be currently under surveillance by three agents of the Delta Force and at least one hitman being paid triple overtime. Snake wasn't sure what to make of the situation. He hoped Campbell had just been pulling his leg. In any case, the intelligence agencies weren't bothering him and Big Boss hadn't taken the time to contact him yet. He could only imagine what would happen when he finally did.

Snake grunted, throwing himself out of bed before he spent the rest of the day thinking. The moment his feet touched the cold floor he heard his phone ring. Snake stepped lightly towards the phone, cursing at the fact that his heater hadn't been warming up the house like it should have. If that thing was on the fritz again, he was going to flip out like a ninja on crack mixed with gun powder. That would have to wait until later, though. When he entered the living room he noticed that Skyler and Dayne were out. Dayne was laying on the couch while Skyler was surveying the house, checking to see if everything was in order. Snake could swear to God that the moment he passed Skyler the dog gave him a wink. He quickly shooed both dogs back into the shed before running blindly toward the phone which was already on its eighth ring.

While answering the phone he quickly glanced at his VCR clock to find out what time it was. Six in the morning. He was wide awake. Without hesitating further he pressed the talk button and held the phone next to his ear.

"This is Snake. Kept you waiting, huh?" he asked. "I mean. . .hello?"

"Snake!" the voice belonged to Ocelot. He was breathing heavily. "You have got to come and save me!"

"What are you talking about?" Snake asked. "You're in the hospital, Ocelot. Shouldn't you be safe?"

"You would think that, wouldn't you?" Ocelot said, regaining some of his composure and undeniably witty attitude. "This place has several problems. My toilet backs up twice each day and I saw a couple of roaches the other night that would scare a small dog, but the current situation I'm in is quite awful. They even have a doctor here that has far to much fun with enema's, and he's the one in charge of me!"

"So?" Snake asked. "What's the problem that caused you to call me?"

"That incompetent twit has no idea what he's doing! I'd gamble that I could have done a better job sewing this hand back on and all I received was the same medical training that you did back in FOX-HOUND! Granted it was rather extensive, but it probably pales when compared with an actual surgeon." Ocelot continued, not hearing Snake. "How the hell did he make it through medical school? I can't picture him memorizing anatomy let alone being able to tie his own shoes by himself, which he doesn't! And that's another thing! He wears velcro! This isn't elementary school!"

"Ocelot!" Snake cut him off. "Why did you call me?"

"Meryl is here. She's visiting me!" Ocelot said as if filth were in his mouth. "She won't shut up about how she knows that I'm plotting something! I've been trying to tell the nurses to kick her out of here but they won't listen to me. Of course I caused a fuss but they just kept giving me downers. I've had so many that I think my heart is about to stop beating."

"What's so bad about Meryl visiting you?"

"Do you have any idea what she's doing to me?"

"What?"

"Things!" Ocelot exclaimed. "Horrible, horrible things!"

"Such as?"

"She won't let me go to sleep and she's eating all of my food. She's interrogating me, Snake. I would have called you earlier, but that woman has an ungodly bladder. She's had like eight glasses of lemonade and she just now went to the bathroom!"

"Are you plotting something Ocelot?"

There was a pause over the line as Ocelot guffawed.

"What kind of a question is that? I thought we were friends!"

"I'm sorry to say this, but I kind of see her point. Am I supposed to trust you after all we've been through?"

"Of course you're supposed to. For as much as you know, I actually could be protecting everyone right now!" Ocelot exclaimed.

Snake sighed indecisively.

"Look, I know you think I'm an asshole and that I'm some sadistic bastard and that I'm a traitorous double crossing fiend and you know what? I'm not even going to bother trying to argue the point with you because you're right. You are right, Snake! I am a sick bastard. It's my anti-drug. Even so, I really need you to help me out here. Think of all the time we've spent together." Ocelot said.

"I've only hung out with you once."

"That's exactly why you need to come up here and save my ass from malpractice and Meryl so we can continue to hang out with each other and build great memories together until one of us starts acting too much unlike himself and we part ways all the while thinking that the time we spent together was a healthy investment. We'll both wish things could be like what they once were, but by then it will be too late. Both of us will have moved on."

"You're full of it, but I'll give you the benefit of the doubt."

"And you won't regret it!

"That remains to be seen." Snake said. "Just tell me what you need."

"Right." Ocelot said, pausing for a moment to catch his breath. "The doctor's really didn't do such a good job patching up my hand. Plus, I don't really think they care. It's as if everyone here is possessed, or something."

There was a distinctive beep on Snake's phone.

"Hold on, I have another call." Snake said, highly irritated.

"I called you first! Don't you dare cut me off, you. . ." Ocelot roared before he was cut off.

Snake sighed and switched the line over.

"Make it quick." Snake ordered. "I'm very, very busy."

"Did you like Dark?" Otacon asked.

Snake switched to the line Ocelot was on without giving that question a second thought.

"It's times like this I wish I had my damn CODEC back because then everyone could talk to me at once. I apologize, Ocelot. Please continue."

"You really are some piece of work, you know that?" Ocelot sighed deeply. "Look, I need you to help me with my hand and I also need you to get Meryl away from me. She is really slow roasting my balls over a grease fire right now. I'm irritated enough to bite through metal and spit out horseshoes!"

"How am I supposed to help you with your hand?"

"Don't worry." Ocelot assured. "I've got an idea. I'll explain further when you get here. You know the way to the _Boo-Boo Fixie Hospital, _right?"

"I believe so. I'll just look up the address in the phone book and be right over in under an hour if the roads out here are acceptable."

"Report this hell-hole while you're at it. I'd rather be in _Saint Heather's Abode For Those Not Feeling Quite Well. _I hear they have some nurses there that. . .have you ever played an adult dating simulator?"

"I'll be over as soon as I can." Snake said, avoiding the new subject.

"Who's that you're talking to? Solidus?" Meryl said in the background.

"Stay away, Meryl." Ocelot ordered. "It's just my stock broker."

"Yeah, right. As if you actually need to invest your money. You're rich enough as it is. But my, you can't possibly be comfortable in that position."

"I enjoy pain, Meryl. It makes me stronger. Stay back. No, don't touch that knob!" Ocelot screamed in terror. "If I want to feel better I'll put my hand in my pants and – AAAH!"

The scream did a really good job of cleaning out Snake's ear.

"Answer my questions! Who are you working for?" Meryl demanded.

"Nobody, I'm retired! If anything, young people work for me!"

Snake hung up the phone while trying to dig out the pain in his canal with his pinkie. He grabbed the phone book and paged through it until he found the hospital's address. It was down by the college, which meant it was a trip into and clear across town. He scribbled the information down on a scrap piece of paper and then went back into his bedroom. Snake entered his walk in closet and began dressing. As was par for the course, he decked himself out in expensive _Razor _attire. Unlike most brand name clothing, _Razor _made itself worth the money by being very hard to tear and providing more comfort than the average set of clothes. Snake mostly had the attire from their _Snowman _set as he couldn't really remember a _hot _Alaskan day. He did have a couple of summer clothes but they were stashed inside an old box too small for him to sneak around in.

On his way out to the car he grabbed a ration and ate it while heading into town. As usual it was very cold outside and snowing lightly. There was a beautiful howl in the wind. The clouds above made it seem later than it actually was. If Snake hadn't seen the spectacle so many damn times before he'd go as so far as to call it magical. Now, however, snow was just wet rain that made insurance companies nervous. When he got into town he noted that there was hardly anyone on the streets. This made for a nice relaxing drive that canceled out the need to exercise his middle finger. The parking lot of the hospital was nearly full when he arrived, but Snake managed to find a spot between two luxury sedans. He approached the grid wrong and had to back up and straighten himself out before trying to get in again. The front bumper of his car nearly made contact with the edge of the sedan to his right, so he had to back up again and right himself further before he finally managed to insert his car between the two spots. He had to get out of the passenger's side since he was parked right up alongside the vehicle to his right. When Snake emerged from his car he nearly threw a fit.

After taking a deep breath he started out toward the hospitals main entrance. A couple of people were out and about, but Snake didn't pay any attention to them. He walked through the front doors directly into the lobby. There was a large seating area to his right and a reception desk to his left. Currently nobody was in the room but him. The receptionist must have gone out for a minute. He turned his attention to the bland lobby, noting that it was full of comfy seating and outdated magazines. There was also an HDTV tuned into a political channel. He heard someone approach and turned to see a teenage male sit down behind the desk. Snake quickly ducked behind a nearby plant and peered around the corner, satisfied that he hadn't been spotted yet.

Snake severally disliked dealing with men who were employee's at an establishment where people skills were required. He preferred women as they could fake hating his guts while maliciously hoping he'd leave before they snapped if he asked them for help. Guys weren't so good at that. Snake waited a moment, hoping for a lady to appear. It was useless. He'd have to deal with a dude. A younger dude with his damn rap music and symbolically lyrical alternative rock bands. A dreamer who thought a bachelor's degree was actually worth something. It unnerved Snake. Just by looking at this guy Snake knew he was the type that would sit in the back of the class and talk about how good the parties had been on Saturday night before making fun of the average guy wearing the Japanese T-Shirt in the front row. In other words, the dude didn't want to be at work and probably should be studying for that test he had in the morning. Instead he was looking at an FHM magazine that had some chick with a heavenly ass on the cover.

Snake noted his ID badge, seeing that the dude's name was Curt. He took a deep breath and told himself that it was going to be okay. Snake's patience and temper were going to stay on the level this time while he made himself look like an idiot by asking what room held Ocelot. Snake sighed and decided to deal with this just for him. He stealthily emerged from his hiding spot and stalked up to the desk, catching Curt by surprise. Instead of asking him if he needed help, Curt shrugged and continued reading his magazine. Snake looked around for a pamphlet of some kind. Amongst the fliers for health organizations and local businesses with expensive buffets, he found himself a map of the establishment. As he expected most of the patients were on the floors above ground level. The first floor was primarily for the staff save for the emergency and operating rooms.

"Nurse Lisa, please report to the emergency room immediately. Dr. Kaufmann needs your assistance." a female voice over the walkie Curt had on his side. "We've got a burn victim in serious condition."

"On my way." Lisa responded.

The map was poorly copied onto a terribly dry piece of paper. The ink was broken in some places and the print was very small, making it almost unreadable. He sighed and turned his attention to the receptionist, gathering up the will power to ask for help.

"Hey, umm. . ." Snake began poorly.

Snake swallowed hard and felt sweat start to erupt all over his body. This was worse than ordering anime at the mall. The whole concept of asking for help was just too much to bear. It meant that he could not handle the matter himself. It implied that he needed another human being to show him the way. It gave the image that he was inferior and had no concept of what the hell he was doing, making him appear weak.

"I'm looking for someone." Snake finished.

Curt nodded slowly, severally unimpressed. Snake opened his mouth to speak, but quickly closed it. He looked just like a fish. It suddenly occurred to him that Ocelot would obviously use his real name to check into a place like a hospital. After all, In the Darkness of Shadow Moses had been a best seller. Mantis was the only person he knew of who still openly embraced his code name and since his image hadn't been plastered all over the Internet he managed to get away with it by convincing people it was a name he'd earned during high school back when he was a religious zealot. Snake knew everyone's real name, but he still stuck to code names so much that it was hard to recall them, especially when it was on the spot like this.

"I'm looking for Adam Petrov. He's a friend of mine. He should have checked in a little while back with a severed limb. Would you happen to know what floor he's on? I'd like to visit him."

"Petrov." Curt repeated, keeping the name on his mind.

He keyed Ocelot's real name into a computer Snake couldn't see from the angle he was at.

"Mr. Petrov is on the fourth floor in room 420."

"That's an easy number to remember." Snake said quietly to himself. "Thanks."

"Sure." Curt said halfheartedly, returning to his magazine.

Snake shook his head in disgust and turned around, heading for the elevators.

"Hey, wait a second!" Curt yelled at him.

Snake stopped and looked back at Curt suspiciously.

"Are you Solid Snake?"

_Oh, god. Here we go._

"The legendary Solid Snake?" Curt asked again.

_Don't have time for this. . ._

"You?" Curt finished in a highly giddy fashion.

"No, I'm stylish comedian Jean Fredrick, commonly referred to as the Grizzled Riot. I perform twice a week down at the comedy club _Caribou__ Igloo. _Remember, whale meat just tastes better inside an igloo." Snake responded, gradually becoming more ashamed of his lie as he made it up on the spot. "Blue margarita's half-priced on Saturday."

If Campbell were here, he'd spin some crazy story that would work better. Still, he baffled Curt enough to shut the guy up.

"Dude, you look so much like Solid Snake." Curt said admirably. "You could be another one of his clones."

"Sorry to disappoint you, kid."

"If you don't mind me asking, how do you grow your mullet?"

"With enough nineties to keep people from bitching that it should have stayed in the eighties."

Curt blinked.

"I use a lot of conditioner."

"Thanks for the tip. I'm sorry that I mistook you for someone else. I won't keep you from your business any longer."

Snake rounded a corner and discovered an elevator at the end of the hall. The call button was already lit up so that meant it would shortly arrive on the ground floor. When the elevator settled and the doors open, Snake saw two children being accompanied by a fairly attractive nurse inside. The kids looked rather ill and didn't appear to be related. The boy had a blank expression on his face while the girl trembled violently. In her hands she held a tiny doll. She was slowly twisting its head off.

It was then that Snake recognized the two kids in front of him. They were the two he'd shot at so long ago. The boy looked up at Snake and recognized him. Snake braced himself, preparing for the worst. A sick grin spread across the child's face, but he didn't make any accusations. Obviously the incident had traumatized them both to the point where they needed therapy. It made Snake sick to his stomach that he was relieved they didn't accuse him of anything.

"The insects come at night." the girl growled in a deep, guttural voice. "They crawl all over my body, eating away at my flesh. I laugh at them, for I am already dead. Devour my corpse as you will, you dirty vermin! The only vitamins you'll get are from the dietary supplement I'm forced to take in a useless effort to even out my mood!"

"Okay, that's enough. Kyoko, the insects are only in your imagination and it's not a dietary supplement. Drake, wipe the drool off of your mouth." the nurse said, setting their attention back in the right place. "Now come on, we've got to go get you some more of those helpful pills, right?"

"Medication." Drake said slowly as he contemplated the term. "The green pill makes me sleepy. The red pill makes me happy. The blue pill makes my night terrors worse."

"The blue pill is an anti-depressant, Drake." the nurse said as if she had explained it to him a million times. "It does not cause night terrors. You have an overactive imagination."

"Maybe we should try to dope that out of my system as well." Drake said.

"Good point, I'll be sure to make a note that your wit is returning."

"Do you know what it feels like to have power?" Kyoko hissed at Snake. "It feels damn good!" she tore the dolls head off, scattering stuffing all over the elevator floor.

"I'm not going to sew that back on for you this time."

"Hush, Jezebel!"

"My name is Sara."

"Sara Jezebel!"

"Fine, we'll go with that. Come on, this man wants to use the elevator. Let's go." Sara Jezebel urged.

The trio walked past Snake, who was rendered completely immobile by the disturbing encounter. Since thinking about what he'd just seen would bother him forever, Snake began to erase it from his mind by denying its occurrence, just like he'd done to his sophomore year of high school. He stepped inside the elevator and pushed the button for the fourth floor and soon found himself moving upward. It seemed to take forever for the elevator to go from one floor to the next. Snake mashed the button panel in a futile effort to try and make the ride go faster. Without warning the elevator shut itself off, plunging Snake into darkness. He let out an exasperated sigh and counted to ten. The elevator started back up again but moved more slowly than it had before.

Five minutes later he arrived on the fourth floor, but the doors wouldn't open. They appeared to be stuck. The button panel lit up abruptly. Someone had called for the elevator on the first floor. Snake gritted his teeth and slammed the emergency stop button. The device stayed put. Snake grabbed the doors and pried them apart with little effort. He then stepped out and heard a sharp twang followed by a loud whirring sound. Without having to look he knew the elevator had disconnected itself from the cable and fallen down the shaft. Luckily nobody was in it. Ocelot was right. This place sucked. Snake didn't even bother turning around at the sound of the crash.

He surveyed the scene. There was a service desk across from the broken elevator. Next to it was another lobby. There were also plenty of halls. Different paths lead to different rooms and most of the doctors seemed to be talking to other doctors and not really paying any attention to their patients. The assistance panel behind the service desk was lit up like a Christmas tree. Snake ignored them and found the 400 hall with little effort. As he went down it's length he peered into a couple of rooms out of morbid curiosity. Almost immediately he spotted Albert Wesker sitting in front of a bed occupied by a familiar looking zombie. It bothered Snake that he couldn't figure out who the zombie was, or rather who it had been. The zombie was currently carefully admiring a very expensive camera. Chris Redfield has his arm in a sling and was sitting next to Jill Valentine in the corner of the room near the windows. Chris appeared to have taken a severe beating and the whole group was engaged in a silent conversation. Chris sensed someone was watching him and looked toward the doorway, spotting Snake. A red exclamation mark appeared above his head.

"Hey, look. A Sony guy." Chris proclaimed.

"Exclusives are so hard to come by these days." Wesker commented.

"Must be nice." Jill said wistfully.

The zombie gave Snake a hearty wave, which caused its arm to detach from its body and fall on the bed sheet. This did not bother the creature at all and it went back to slowly admiring the camera with its one free limb. Wesker reached underneath the hospital bed and passed a staple gun to Jill, which she used to "fix" the monsters arm. Snake pretended to walk by but hung back to listen to what they were discussing.

"Anyway, we've got to get Frank out of here." Wesker said. "Its a miracle that we managed to find him in the first place."

"I wonder how he wound up in Alaska?" Chris asked nobody in particular.

"More importantly, what has he been through since Colorado and why did he wander into a hospital? Perhaps his mind hasn't completely deteriorated yet." Wesker thought aloud.

"Before we do that, we've got to find whoever he bit." Jill said. "Look around his mouth. The blood is fresh. I'm guessing some idiot tried to take his camera away."

"All we need is another epidemic. Chris, do you have the keys?"

"Yup. I've got all of them. Even the stupid one with the armor etching on it. We should be able to open up any door we come across."

They all stood up and prepared to leave, but Jill hesitated.

"Who's going to stay behind with Frank?" she asked.

"You because you're so concerned." Wesker said with a smile and a wink.

"Damn it!" Jill cursed. "I walked right into that one."

Frank the zombie took a picture of Jill and giggled. Jill spun around and glared at him viciously. That giggle could have only meant one thing.

"Did you just take a picture of my ass?" Jill demanded.

Frank attempted to grin, but the dead muscles in his face wouldn't let him. Instead he nodded slowly.

"Give me that camera now!" Jill shouted.

"Huuuuuuuurngh aaaaaaaaah! PP! PP!" Frank groaned in protest.

Wesker grabbed her from behind and got her in a nelson hold.

"Idiot! You'll get bit too! While you seem to be immune to the T-Virus, I wouldn't suggest you push your luck. Besides, he's a zombie. He probably only managed to snap a picture of the outermost corner of your ass. Is that worth throwing a fit over?"

Jill couldn't argue with his logic, so she stopped struggling and Wesker released her.

"Stay here. We'll be right back." Wesker assured her.

Wesker and Chris exited the room, paused to take enough time to turn west, and ran down the hallway as quickly as they could. Jill regarded Frank for no more than five seconds when he suddenly threw up all over his bed sheet. She sighed deeply and sat back down in her chair. Snake had heard enough. The hall seemed to stretch on forever. He couldn't help but look into some of the rooms he passed. His curiosity was sometimes rewarded with angry grimaces, hearty waves, and one guy throwing him a Jolly Rancher. A few patients had visitors who were dressed up in cosplay uniforms with varying degrees of accuracy and authenticity. Some convention must have been on at the expo. Why they were all in the hospital was of less concern than if his Resident Evil buddies were actually posers. As fabrics, makeups, and physicality improved thanks to evolution, it became gradually more difficult to tell the difference.

In one room he saw a pack of ladies cosplaying as the girls from Dead Or Alive talking cheerfully to one another as they watched over an injured member of their group who was portraying Ayane. Her leg was broken. They were all dressed in clothing that exposed as much of their skin as legally possible. Snake almost forgot about Ocelot until he remembered that in less than ten years he'd be thirty years older. He picked up his pace to flee from the temptation and sprinted down the idiotically long hall until he finally did reach Ocelot's room. Inside, Meryl was sitting with her legs crossed in a chair right next to Ocelot's bed. Her back was to Snake. He looked at Revolver's hand and instantly grimaced. There were stitches and staples all across the afflicted area. It was cracked open and on the verge of falling off. Simply looking at it made Snake instantly start to rub both of his wrists soothingly. A towel was set below Ocelot's hand and it was already soaked in blood. In fact, Ocelot appeared to be bleeding at that very moment. Yellowish goo discharged from the poor graft and the hand itself had turned brown.

It was obvious that Ocelot needed medical attention. A medicine cart had been left in the room. The cart was loaded with some pretty potent medicine along with tools to properly administer the stuff. Why someone had just left it there seemingly as an afterthought was incredulous. As for Ocelot, he was dressed in a teal hospital gown. His mouth was agape in a befuddled manner and his eyes had rolled back into his skull. He had a PCA gripped tightly in his good hand that he was pushing rapidly. It was the only sign that he was still awake. Ocelot was obviously trying to make the pain in his hand go away. It looked as though that effort was proving to be futile. The device only delivered a limited amount of narcotics to the patient before shutting itself off for a set amount of time.

Neither Meryl nor Ocelot appeared to notice Snake's entrance. Not that he could blame them, of course. He had developed a habit of being naturally sneaky.

"Ding-dong." Snake said to announce his presence.

Meryl jumped in surprise and turned to face him. The Russian interrogator instantly snapped awake. The PCA flew from its death grip and fell over the side of the bed. Ocelot stared at Snake in disbelief with his eyes wide open. His mouth attempted to work but couldn't quite do so yet due to the fact it was numb beyond reasoning from all the drugs Ocelot had shot into himself.

"Snake!" Ocelot said in a voice that was slightly slurred. "Good timing, I was just about to pass out. Somebody get me some adrenaline."

"Ocelot, did you call Snake?" Meryl asked.

"No." Ocelot replied in a stupid voice laced with sarcasm.

"Don't tell me you're here to visit him, Snake."

"Of course I called him, you twit!" Ocelot exclaimed.

"Wow, you've finally admitted to something. We're making some progress, but damn it all to hell! Now I have to pretend to be nice to you."

"Same here! You think I like you? You're just as bad as Campbell! You're clearly his daughter."

"I may be a lot of things, but I am not his daughter." Meryl said viciously.

"Hey, don't encourage the person interrogating you." Snake said.

"I wasn't. . ." Meryl stopped, biting her bottom lip and deciding not to lie. "Okay, maybe a little. But I didn't water board him. I'm not sick like that. I've actually been trying to get him some help, if you'll believe that."

"Ocelot failed to mention that over the telephone." Snake said.

Snake suddenly noticed that Ocelot had been strapped to the bed.

"What's with the bondage?"

"The doctor's believe that I am in hysterics." Ocelot explained. "I've been yelling and shouting a lot, which is starting to disturb the other patients. I am not a happy man. All I want is for someone to give a damn about my hand. I also want Meryl to leave."

"I will just as soon as you tell me when this alternate reality is going to come crashing down all around us with you at the center!" Meryl exclaimed.

Snake could see that this was going to escalate into someone getting hurt and chose to try and end it.

"Look, Meryl." Snake said, putting his hand on her shoulder. "What is is what is."

An awkward pause ensued.

"That's the best you've got?" Ocelot asked.

"By the way, I like that haircut." Snake continued.

"Thanks." Meryl said, blushing a little.

"Keep it coming." Ocelot urged.

"Leave Ocelot alone. He's trying very hard to turn over a new leaf, just like Raven and Mantis. You forgave them, didn't you?"

"But what about. . ." Meryl began futilely.

She sighed heavily. Her question would have lead to nowhere. This new life suddenly was starting to make sense, which frightened her. A singular tear welled up in her eye.

"I'm afraid someone is going to get hurt because he's here." Meryl said. "Why is he here?"

"Why are you here? Answer that!" Ocelot shouted, subtly looking over in Snake's direction.

"You first." Meryl said.

"You'll never get the truth out of him." Snake said. "Ocelot could lie his way out of anything."

Snake approached Ocelot and put his hand above the sloppy graft. Ocelot winced a little.

"But he should know that if something does indeed go wrong and he's to blame for it, I'll be right behind him."

Ocelot breathed into Snake's face to get him to back off. Snake shot back in disgust, horrified at the smell of Ocelot's breath.

"Are we all friends now?" Ocelot asked calmly.

They both looked at Meryl, who sighed and nodded while folding her arms across her chest.

"Good, now if you would both be so kind. . ." Ocelot began.

He started shaking in anger.

"Get me the hell out of this goddamn bed!" Ocelot roared. "I've got to piss!"

The two of them quickly undid his straps. Snake got on his good side and helped him out of the bed carefully. Ocelot grabbed the IV and shuffled desperately out of his room with his ass hanging out the back of his gown and entered a vacant room across from his, making sure that he wasn't spotted. Snake tilted his head in confusion.

"Why isn't he using his?" Snake asked Meryl.

"There's already a doctor in there."

"What?"

He quickly wandered over to the door that led into Ocelot's bathroom and opened it. Sure enough on the floor and on his stomach was one of the hospitals doctors. The doctor's coat and pants were slumped over the toilet stall. He must have been trying to cool off. Snake flipped the doctor over and was going to feel for a pulse when he suddenly noticed that most of the doctor's neck was missing. It had been bit off. Blood was all over his shirt and coagulated in a rough mess on the floor where he'd been laying. Snake shook his head in disbelief. That stupid zombie had to have had something to do with this, but Snake wasn't going to ask any questions. He backed out of the bathroom, pale as a white sheet.

Snake grabbed a spare chair and put it up against the door so it couldn't get out. Meryl looked at him knowingly and nodded, but neither of them said anything about the victim. Ocelot returned and grabbed some morphine off of the cart along with the necessary supplies to inject it into himself. He shoved them in Meryl's chest, noting that he didn't feel a bra.

"Make yourself useful." Ocelot said.

They helped him back on his bed and Meryl proceeded to wrap his arm in a tourniquet. She filled the needle full of the drug he desired and was about to administer it when she suddenly had a thought.

"How much of this have you had today already?" Meryl asked.

"A careful amount." Ocelot replied.

"Are you a druggie?"

"Yes." Ocelot declared. "A prescription druggie, but unlike most drug users I can control the urges. In any case, it's not your body. Give me the juice."

Meryl injected him with the morphine. Ocelot sighed.

"You can't imagine how hideously agonizing this feels." Ocelot said to Snake. "I had to wait an hour in the ER for a doctor to come and see me. Nobody here wants to help me because not only do I interfere with their breaks, but I'm also supposedly one count over the hospital's patient quota. That's not everything, either. I seem to have reached my pre-determined limit for the insurance company I've bought into. At least that's what my doctor told me. They wheeled in that cart out of sympathy and told me to help myself." Ocelot explained.

"Wait, how did you reach your insurance limit? Do you have some other illness you don't talk about?"

"No, but it seems as if. . .oh, forget about it! Point is, this sucks and you know it! Why does it cost so much money to patch someone up or save a life? Patients pay a fortune on outlandishly priced medicine and shoddy medical procedures to stay alive and out of pain for just a little bit longer. Hospitals may as well let the lower class suffer in agony until they die because your average Joe who earns seven dollars an hour sure as hell can't afford most of the services hospitals provide even with a job that has decent benefits, but you can't refuse anyone treatment as that would be unethical. Apparently putting someone's family in debt for the rest of their natural life is the lesser of the two evils. It's ridiculous, isn't it?"

"I'm not sure and this is very disturbing. Usually the people I'm around are only philosophical when they're dying." Snake said. "Are you dying, Ocelot?"

"I very well could be due to this damn infection!" Ocelot assured.

"That's not good."

"Aren't you rich enough to afford the whole thing yourself?" Meryl asked.

"Hey, I bought health insurance! It's their job to pick up the tab!" Ocelot insisted. "Never mind, just forget about it. Let's get down to business. I think we've got a lot to do before my hand is in good enough shape to heal itself."

"First let me take a closer look at your hand so that I can see how bad the damage is. Roll up your sleeve." Snake said.

"No! There's no need for that." Ocelot said. "You don't actually have to perform surgery or clean the wound. I just need you to get something for me. It will do all the work for us."

There was fear in his eyes. It was odd for someone of his character to be afraid of something like this. Giving fear was his living, so why had he suddenly become so anxious?

"What's the matter, Ocelot?" Snake asked carefully.

Ocelot sighed heavily.

"I suppose I should tell you. It's always better to have your own replacement. You don't have to pay as much. Besides, this hospital isn't certified to work with prosthetics, but they do it anyway. I would have rather gone for another prosthetic and waited on a real hand, but I was in dire need of a temporary replacement. You don't know how much you do with your hand until you lose it." Ocelot said, almost to himself. "I'm going to let you get your look, but only because you should know about what I've done. Just promise me one thing."

"What?"

"You can't kill me, Snake. We're not involved in a mission." Ocelot said.

"So there are rules against stuff like that?" Snake joked. Ocelot didn't laugh. "Ocelot, what did you do?"

Ocelot held Snake's gaze tightly and used his remaining hand to slowly roll up the sleeve of his gown. Snake got his first really good look at Ocelot's hand and realized that the hand wasn't brown because of the infection. Quite the contrary, the hand was tanned. Even more disturbing was the fact that his new hand didn't exactly match his old body. The skin tone was off and the hand was slightly crooked compared to his arm. He gasped and took three full steps back, suddenly realizing what was going on. This hand wasn't donated, grown, or made. This hand had a previous owner.

Liquid Snake.


	2. Lending A Hand

**Chapter 2 : Lending A Hand.**

"What the hell?" Snake asked nobody in particular.

"You're an idiot." Meryl said to Ocelot with a wide grin.

Liquid Snake's hand. How did Ocelot still have it? Snake suddenly wanted to be far away from Ocelot. He backed away from Ocelot's bed, eying the hand suspiciously. He began wondering if Revolver would be prone to sudden switches in his personality again. After all, it had happened last time. Snake didn't enjoy the idea of visiting his evil twin again as Liquid manipulated Ocelot's body like a rusty puppet. Meryl sighed, took a seat and propped up her chin with one hand attentively. This was probably going to be a very interesting story.

"That's right. This is Liquid's hand." Ocelot affirmed quietly.

Snake shook his head in disbelief, but Ocelot merely nodded with a sad look on his face. They watched each other carefully as this new development continued to unfold. If Snake tried anything funny, Ocelot was more then prepared to defend himself. All it would take was one easy snatch from behind his pillow and he would have his hidden revolver in his hand with the hammer pulled back and his finger squeezing the trigger. Ocelot did not want it to come to something like that because he was beginning to like Snake although he was more interested in preserving his own life even though Liquid now shared it. It would also compromise his current mission. When he was certain that Snake was acting normally, he decided to continue.

"You won't have to worry about him acting up. I'm on a fairly powerful medication that keeps me in my own mind. It's for people who have personality disorders and can't be cured by any other means. It's also still experimental at this stage, but they're planning on releasing it to the general public eventually. I don't think they're going to. With the direction nanomachines are taking, they'll likely replace everything we've come to know as conventional medication within the next few years."

"I find that boring and uninteresting." Snake said and quickly followed it up by changing the topic before Ocelot could lash out at him. "How do you still have Liquid's hand? Wait, save the answer to that question for later as it's besides the point. You had a normal hand that Gray Fox cut off and took. What's going on?"

Ocelot paused for a moment and worked out how he was going to answer the question. It wasn't that he was formulating a lie. It was that he didn't want to sound weird.

"Before I came here, Liquid was on the verge of driving me completely insane. His ambitions would have destroyed me. In a fit of lucidity right before the situation truly would have spiraled into a catastrophic torrent of unimaginable consequences, I removed the arm myself. I almost died that day, but I managed to stop the bleeding, the trauma, and preserve his arm all at the same time. From there, I had all the options available to those with severed limbs and a ton of money. I chose to have a new arm grown for me from scratch as I'm not one for prosthetics or machinery. A French surgeon I know replaced my arm."

"I thought you said you didn't trust the French." Snake pointed out.

Revolver groaned and shook his head.

"I bet that has something to do with my sudden insurance problems."

"Wait a second. You went back to the same person who gave you Liquid's arm in the first place, didn't you?"

"Yes." Ocelot admitted, obviously annoyed.

"So did you have any problems with your new hand?" Snake asked.

"Not really. Oh, sure. The first week or two I had calibration difficulties and grabbed the other man's penis when I tried reaching for my own in public urinals, but that was to be expected."

Snake shook his head. That comment was a little unnecessary, but it was just how Ocelot was.

"In any case, once I got rid of Liquid's arm I was myself again."

"That's good. What did you do with the old arm? Did you stick it in a pickle jar?"

"How the hell do you fit a humanarm in a pickle jar? I stuck it in a cannister because I just couldn't throw it away. You remember Nastasha's book, right?"

"Yeah. I got a signed copy and you don't need to explain the rest. You thought that you could get some money by selling Liquid's arm live over the Internet, didn't you?"

"Snake, people sell their ex-girlfriends panties and get at least ten dollars for it." Ocelot said, nearly shouting. "I can sell a stupid damn arm if I so do please. The problem was that I couldn't convince anyone that it was actually Liquid's arm so I just tossed it in the attic."

"And you kept it alive?" Snake asked. Ocelot nodded. "You kept Liquid's arm alive and functioning in a canister?"

"A very expensive nice one. You could only get something like it from a scientific laboratory with a big budget." Ocelot affirmed.

"That's morbid."

Meryl started chuckling to herself. They both looked at her, slightly offended that she was laughing at them.

"This is just all so incredibly stupid." Meryl said in immense disapproval. "You went through all this trouble just so you could have another hand right now?"

"That would be it in a nutshell, Meryl." Ocelot said.

"And it just had to be Liquid Snake's hand, didn't it?"

"Well, I could have waltzed into the morgue and had a whole lot of them to pick from, but I decided to go for what was immediately available. I know it was a bad decision, but I am not going to have problems cooking for the next three months while I wait for them to grow me a new hand! I've been through all that once before and I'm not doing it again. I just don't want this hand. I _need_ it."

"Why don't you just get a prosthetic arm? Haven't you seen what they're like lately?"

"I have. They're impressive. However, they're not made of actual human tissue and that's what I want."

"Fine, fair enough. But out of curiosity, what was the most difficult thing for you to do after you lost your hand the first time?" Meryl asked as politely as she could.

"Waving." Ocelot replied.

Meryl almost jumped from her seat and strangled him, but she restrained herself.

"Forget about it." Snake said. "There's no point in us analyzing why you still have his arm. Let me see those pills you mentioned."

Ocelot reached for one of the drawers in his bedside table again and took out a large white pill bottle. He tossed it over to Snake, who caught it in one hand. The prescription label wasn't done in a professional manner. The RX symbol had been replaced with a caution sign bearing an exclamation point. Written directly underneath it was EXP. That must have stood for experimental. The doctor's name and specific information about the medicine were absent from the label. A serial number was at the very bottom of the label. Various directions on what to do and what to watch for when taking the medicine lined the bottle. There were so many of them that they nearly covered the circumference of the container. If anyone found this lying on the street they probably would think it was some wacky placebo. However, to the trained eye it looked fairly intimidating.

The pills themselves were orange and transparent. Snake took one out to get a closer look. There was a barrier between the two sides. One side was full of a blue liquid while the other had a bunch of tiny little balls packed into it. They had no odor and didn't dissolve in his hand. Snake put the pill back and tossed the bottle over to Ocelot.

"Scary stuff." Snake remarked.

"There is a lot the public doesn't know about." Ocelot remarked. "These pills might as well be candy compared to some of the other things I've seen. Anyway, I don't think I'll be able to get my hand back from Fox so I'm going to send in an order to have a new one made. Like I said, this limb is just temporary. It saved me money as well since I already had the material on hand."

"That's a terrible pun." Snake said, smiling slightly.

"I didn't even think about it like that until you said something. Enough talk. Let's get down to business. I want this god-awful situation to end as soon as possible."

"Okay, tell me what you want me to do." Snake said.

"I need you to go to the hospitals basement for me." Ocelot explained.

Snake's imagination began going crazy. He was already picturing himself down there, skulking about and shooting out the radio's that the guards carried. A surge of adrenaline made him feel more awake. Even though this wasn't an official mission he was still getting fired up about it. He'd had this problem before the first time he'd bought his PS3 and once when he shoveled his driveway. The more energy he expended when he was like this, the better off he was when the feeling left. If he still had fuel left over he usually began to bounce off the walls. Literally.

"In the hospital basement you will find a new type of medicine that's just been discovered."

"An oxymoron." Snake said to himself.

"It's called Mend and it is a new breed of super medicine. It works together with your body to take care of specific tasks that must be programmed into the nanomachines within each serum. In the case of Mend, it helps with surgeries such as this by strengthening the immune system to drive out any infections, accept the graft, and work on regenerating the skin around the stitches. It should take about two or three days for my hand to heal completely."

"Too bad things like that won't mean anything once we're all walking around in cyborg bodies."

"You need to read your cyberpunk more carefully. Not everyone is going to be able to afford that type of technology when it first comes out and some people are going to want to remain human for personal or religious reasons. This type of medicine will be for them and research such as this will help innumerably in creating an artificial system free of human disease when they start rolling the bodies out."

"So what forms does it come in?"

"Mend itself comes as a cream and liquid. The cream is like a topical analgesic on steroids and is much cheaper than the liquid as it does not have nearly as many perks. You can't have a nanomachine colony in a cream, but you should still think of the analgesic as better than anything else on the market. If you pair them both together, then that's twice the healing power. Both the cream and the liquid are in a special case in the basement. I need you to bring me them. I've heard it's kept in a special case with a combination lock on it. I'm sure if you poke around you'll find the number."

"Is Mend relatively new to the medical world? Just like your pills?" Snake asked.

"Yes, it is." Ocelot remarked. "I heard two of the doctor's talking about it right outside my door. By the way, there are a few security cameras down in that area which are set up to catch looter's. You should be okay if you dress up as a doctor. I don't think anyone here will give a damn if you don't wear your ID card, either. Just make something up and you should be fine."

"Alright, but I have one question and it's a little off-topic." Snake said. "What's with all of the cosplayers?"

"The Northern Lights are going to appear soon. Everybody knows that this town has a great spot to view them from. On top of that, there's some convention in town, as usual. I have no idea why they're all in the hospital. Otacon said a bus had a very bad crash."

"They must be headed for the mountains outside of town." Snake said to himself.

"No, they're going to watch from an apartment in New York City. Yes, the mountains, you twit! The spot with the resort? You know, I saw the craziest thing earlier. I'm not one for those insecure geeks who dress up as their favorite characters to hide themselves from the truth, but I did see one earlier that I was quite fond of. I can't think of where she's from."

"Who did you see?" Snake asked, interested.

Revolver had to think about it for a moment.

"She wasn't wearing much. What she did have on made her look like some S&M junkie, but I do recall that she had wings and a tail! That's a rather bland combination, if you ask me. She kind of wiggled her behind when she walked. Worse yet, I don't even think she's legal and when she looked at me, she had cat eyes and skull earrings in addition to red hair done up in ponytails and a choker with a ring in it. She was even more pale than Meryl."

"That sounds a lot like Etna."

"Whoever it was, it was an incredibly lifelike portrayal of a fictitious character. She didn't even look like a dufus like most of those rejects do. She looked real. Like maybe she could wear that shit to the mall real."

"You've had too much morphine." Meryl said.

"I'm aware of that. Damn, someone needs to break me off a piece of that action."

"I thought you said she didn't look legal." Meryl said.

"Yeah, you're not supposed to bite on green apples, Ocelot. You have to wait for them to turn red because that's when they taste the best."

"Well, I just hope she wins a crummy gift certificate for gas, or something. My, but she was beautiful."

"Do you know who I saw on my way up here? Chris Redfield, Jill Valentine, and Albert Wesker_._" Snake said, grinning.

"Too bad they're not the same trio we know."

"Damn it, they're cosplayers too?"

"Yes." Ocelot said with a regretful sigh. "I must admit that even they had me fooled. They're so into character that you could swear that they're the same people we've come to know through an elaborate story that would completely break the fourth wall so badly that it would destroy the entire series we're currently being manipulated across. They're real professionals. Otacon said that Mantis is working with them to bring them back to reality. There's apparently a whole damn group of them."

"Maybe that was Etna, then." Snake said.

"Perhaps, but for the sake of toning things down a bit we'll just go with the fact that I'm high."

"That doctor in the bathroom must be with them." Snake said.

"He is." Ocelot said, rubbing at his eyes in fatigue. "I checked for a pulse. He has one. He's in with the Resident Evil group. I can't figure out where he's hiding his makeup."

Snake turned to Meryl.

"Are you going to behave if I leave?" Snake asked.

"Yes, I promise. I'll stay here. I don't know this place any better than you do." Meryl said. "If it makes you feel any better, I'll go wait in the lobby for you to finish. I'd like to be here when you use Mend, though. I want to see what it does."

"As much as I detest to say this, it would probably be better for you to stay in here with me." Ocelot said. "I don't trust anyone around here. You could be kidnapped, or something. Besides, we might as well try to learn how to get along with each other."

"Agreed." Meryl said.

"Let's not waste any more time, Snake."

"Understood. Commencing Operation Ocelot's Mend." Snake said.

"No." Ocelot protested. "Don't call it that. Give it a cool name like Alpha Delta Bravo."

"That has nothing to do with the mission."

"So what? Alpha Delta Bravo sounds better. Go ahead, say it before you leave."

"Ugh. . .commencing Operation Alpha Delta Bravo."

Ocelot nodded in approval. Snake walked over to the bathroom door and opened it, instantly coming face to face with the zombie doctor. His face had turned purple and his eyes were nothing more than two balls of cataracts. The zombies mouth was open. Upon seeing Snake it titled it's head, trying to decide whether he looked tasty or not. That was its first and last mistake. Snake knocked him out cold. He checked for a pulse as well just to be absolutely certain that he wasn't dealing with an actual zombie. He wasn't. Snake ran over to the sink and ran scalding hot water over his hands, suddenly feeling very dirty and possibly infected, although that was impossible. Once he was finished and his hands were bright red and throbbing in pain, Snake picked up the doctor's uniform and began putting it on. It was nearly a perfect fit. Dressing up as the enemy made him feel about ten years younger.

He took the ID card and tossed it in the trash. Snake approached the mirror and looked into it, trying to give himself a doctor's appearance. He squinted really hard and pretended he was analyzing something disgusting. It worked. Snake straightened the uniform out before exiting the bathroom. He gave Ocelot a reassuring nod as he headed out into the hallway. Snake walked over to the reception desk near the broken elevator. Nurses, visitors, and doctors passed by him without a second glance. The disguise appeared to be working. As if they cared. Snake reached the staff area and began formulating what do next.

He'd have to find out what that password was. It'd have been better if the case were simply a mechanical lock that way he could have easily picked it, but this was the twenty first century. Combination locks were out and high school lockers with security panels were all the rage. Regardless, he needed the info and abusing Otacon's hacking skills wasn't an option. Usually Hal worked best if he had the material right there in front of him. Even if Otacon managed to properly instruct Snake he still wouldn't get it because he had such a hard time with computers. Getting back to the matter at hand, he resolved to locate the storage room first. This would buy his unconscious mind some idle time to figure out how to deal with the lock.

He found a new map pinned up on a nearby wall and examined it. Unlike the crappy map he had in his personal inventory, this one was much more user friendly. The layout of the hospital wasn't that hard to memorize. That solved one problem. He moved on to the next one. When he turned away from the map he spotted a female doctor going through some documents at the service center. She looked a bit more professional than the other deadbeats. She was clearly Japanese and probably in her mid thirties since she looked like she was twenty seven. Snake didn't spend that much time admiring her but he did note that she had dyed her hair brown and her roots were beginning to show. He approached her and began to improvise his lie that would hopefully get him the code.

"Hello." Snake greeted.

"Hi." the doctor responded with a smile. "I haven't seen you around here before, are you new?"

"Yeah. I just transferred here. I'm a resident." Snake lied. "My name is Iroquois Plisken. What's your name?"

"I'm Keri Nanako, Iroquois."

"Nice to meet you. I need help with something. Do you have a moment?"

"Yes, I do. What do you need?"

"I've got a patient that might need some Mend."

Snake figured his approach had been good enough. He'd somehow have to lead her into telling him the code or at least giving him some sort of hint. For now he was just pumping her for general information.

"A few of them do. It would be great if we could use that stuff. They locked it away in a protected case because it has to be kept cold until it touches the skin. The director set the password for it, but he forgot what he set it to."

"So where is the case now?"

"It's just sitting in the basement. We're having someone come in to take a look at it. She's going to try and open that case without actually having to break into it since the case alone is worth about twenty thousand dollars. Until then, there's a bit of a contest going around where the director is offering a reward to whoever can open it before he actually has to pay that hacker."

This was going smoother than he thought it would.

"Any other clues?"

"I heard that the number is sexually symbolic. The boss here he. . .well, I'd better not say."

"Have you tried to open the case?"

"I went down there but I couldn't find it. Nobody has been able to do so, which kind of makes the contest a waste of time. The basement is sort of messy."

Great. He'd have to look for it.

"I guess I'll try my luck, then."

"Let the director know if you manage to open it." Keri said. "Make sure you get permission to use it before you actually do so."

"I will. Thanks, Keri."

"A pleasure, Iroquois." Keri said with a smile.

She extended a hand for him to shake. As Snake returned the gesture, she brought him in close.

"I'd suggest taking up your residence at a different hospital. It'll be good for your sanity." Keri whispered in his ear. "I'm currently looking for employment elsewhere."

"I'll keep that in mind."

"Good."

She let him go. After that Keri returned to her business and Snake headed for the elevators. He found one nearby. Unlike last time this one was ready for him. Snake pressed the button for the basement and the elevator began to descend. It felt as if it were going slower than the other one had. Snake tapped his foot impatiently. He relived every single one of his mercenary memories in his mind by the time he'd reached the second floor. At least the music was acceptable. It sounded as if they had ripped some music off of the Adult Swim bumps and used them in the elevators. Why a hospital needed elevator music was beyond him. Snake knew he didn't want to listen to Active by Dark Party while he was being wheeled to a room. It was probably just an additional quirk of this quack haven. After what seemed like twelve years the elevator finally did hit the bottom of the hospital.

He heard a chime. The door didn't open. It was stuck. Snake let out an exasperated cry of frustration and began pulling at the crack in the middle of the two doors. When he finally pried it open an empty concrete hallway was revealed before him. The place was deserted. Snake passed a couple of autopsy rooms and another room full of the hospitals records. There was also a dark room with no door that contained the hospital generator. For whatever reason, a very large fireman's hammer was leaned up against it. At the end of the hall and around the corner was a room marked as **STOREAGE**. Snake sighed heavily, wondering if they had deliberately misspelled the word. Luckily nobody was inside but there was a security camera, just like Ocelot had predicted. It turned and zoomed in on Snake for a moment. Whoever was watching him decided he wasn't a threat. The camera switched back to its automated patrol.

The storage room was spacious and well lit. It smelled heavily of fresh plastic. Snake rubbed his nose free of the strong scent before continuing forward. Large shelves and cabinets littered the whole place and a couple of empty medicine bottles were scattered across the floor. It looked similar to a store pharmacy, only much bigger in scale. Snake quickly discovered that everything was out of place, just as Keri had said it would be. The adult diapers were in the aspirin section, and where hemorrhoid ointment should have been an assortment of scalpels rested. This did not phase Snake all that much. However, it made his mission more difficult. He continued searching for what he was here for. In one aisle Snake found a bum slumped across the floor. He inspected the body and saw a needle sticking out of the unconscious man's arm. An overpowering smell of medicine hit Snake and made his nose drain. Methadone. Not the kind of stuff you wanted to play around with. He chose to forget about the body since the person was most likely dead. What the corpse was doing down here would forever remain a mystery.

It took him twenty minutes of aimless wandering to find the case that contained Mend. He discovered the container by accidentally tripping over it and falling face first into the concrete floor. A sickening wet smack sounded when he made contact. Snake immediately began rubbing his face and checking for blood while assessing the damage. None of his teeth were missing but his entire front row felt very loose. He felt the front of his skull and ran across a very nasty knot. The skin around it was tender, so Snake correctly assumed it was bruising.

He turned around and sat down on the hard floor, now facing the front of the case. There was a numeric keypad in the middle of the design which was lit up with a light blue color. A red LCD screen above it displayed a winking black cursor. There was room for about ten digits, although the number might not even stretch that far. The case itself wouldn't break easy, if at all. Snake mulled over the problem for a while, trying to think of a sexual number. An eight kind of looked like a perfect set of breasts when titled sideways so he punched in all eights. Then he put in a couple eights. Then he put in one eight. No luck. Snake slammed his fist down on the case, hurting himself more than he did the titanium plating.

He began to become quite frustrated. Snake had been around the block and seen his fair share of porn. He'd read more than one dirty magazine in his lifetime. Snake wasn't exactly green when it came to sexual knowledge. In fact, it was he who invented the _Quadruple Bypass Highway_ maneuver that everyone loved so much and knew under a different name, but since he didn't write a book about it nobody gave him any credit. Then again, he didn't exactly want something like that tied to his name. So why, then, was this stupid password so bothersome? Simply because he was unable to figure it out. He began punching in numbers rapidly completely at random, hoping to eventually find the combination. Someone had done that in a cartoon once and it had worked. This was not the case for Snake.

A thought occurred to him. There was one other man who probably knew more about porn and those stupid damn sexual numbers than he did. Roy Campbell. A man who had spent a small fortune on incredibly expensive smut DVD's imported from Japan. Snake hadn't brought his cell phone with him so he chose to try his luck with the doctors coat. He pulled out a wallet containing three condoms, one unwrapped and unused. Snake pocketed the thirty dollars he found inside. It was a bit obscene, but the guy wouldn't need it anymore. Besides those two items there was nothing else of real interest in the wallet. The other pocket contained some gum and three more condoms, one unwrapped and unused. He sighed in frustration and threw the useless items on the ground.

In the doctors coat pocket was a Razr. Oh, yes. His luck was just that good. It always had been. The tiny phone came complete with as many add-on's and extras as the doctor could afford. In his photo album was a bunch of up-skirt shots. Snake ignored them and checked the signal. Even though he was below ground the reception was still good enough for him to make a brief call. He dialed up Campbell's number and waited patiently for the colonel to answer. The phone rang a full ten times before Campbell got to it.

"Hello?" Campbell asked.

"Colonel, this is Snake." Snake announced. "Can you hear me?"

"Loud and clear. What's the situation Snake?"

They caught themselves and groaned simultaneously.

"Did we just. . ." Snake said, not even bothering to finish his sentence.

"Yes." Campbell said, disgruntled. "Yeah, we blew that one pretty bad. Anyway, what do you need?"

"I need you to tell me a sexual number." Snake said.

There was a brief pause over the line.

"What? Well, Snake, there are many numbers that can be considered sexual and I'd rather not go through all of them with you because we're not having this conversation over some beer, but I can tell you what the most popular one is."

"I think that will work."

"Sixty-nine."

Snake blinked and tried to figure out. . .if he were an anime character, a large sweat drop would have appeared on his forehead that he'd have used to stab himself with for being so ignorant. Suddenly it all made sense.

"Hey." Campbell butted in, canceling Snake's thoughts. "Why do you need a sexual number?"

"It's for a crossword puzzle." Snake lied right through his teeth.

"Huh, I didn't know they used numbers." Campbell said naively.

"Sure, occasionally. I mean. . .they don't have to, but they like to get it in, you know?"

"Yeah. Damn republicans." Campbell muttered.

"What?" Snake said. "Oh, never mind. Thanks anyway."

"Anytime. Hey, you doing anything this week-end?" Campbell asked hopefully.

"Not sure about that yet, but if I do go out I'll give you a call. Sorry, but I really have to go."

"Sounds good. Well, I've got stuff to do as well. Hah! To do. That's rich. Bye, Snake."

Roy hung up. Snake peered at the keyboard suspiciously. Sixty nine. Only two numbers. What were the odds? Considering the fact that he'd blown up three weapons capable of destroying the world, they had to be in his favor. He punched them in and hit enter. A small beep sounded and the weapons case audibly unlocked itself from the inside with a series of mechanical clicks. It almost sounded like a PS2 having a very rough disc read error. The keyboard and the display screen lost their color. Finally, the case automatically opened. An icy fog bellowed out from within and lingered in the air for a brief moment before dissipating. The case was split into two sections. The divider had a hi-tech thermometer installed in it as well as a small panel to control the temperature.

All the contents were covered in a light blanket of ice. On the top half were a bunch of disposable vials. They worked like a switch-blade knife. You pressed a button on the side which made a needle shoot out the bottom end. From there you simply injected the patient with whatever was inside. Snake considered them slightly impractical, but if they worked he wasn't going to bitch. Much. As expected, the solid form of Mend was beneath the divider. At first glance it looked like a tooth paste container. The dispenser on the tube was removable. Several heads were reserved in their own little section to ensure exact precision when applying the gel.

Now came the real question. Would it matter if he took this medicine, case and all, back with him up to Ocelot's room? Mend obviously needed to be kept cool or they wouldn't have put it in such a nice case. Plus, he already knew the password. His mind battled over how to handle the situation professionally. It probably was in his best interest to just haul the case along with him and lie his way straight back to Ocelot. It'd worked so far and he hadn't even been trying. He instinctively reached behind his earlobe and pressed in, expecting to transmit a CODEC call to the colonel for advice. No dice, obviously. He'd had that gadget removed a while back.

"To hell with it." Snake muttered to himself.

He picked up the case and headed out. Snake was two inches away from pressing the elevator call button when it lit up and the elevator slowly dragged itself upward.

_**Meanwhile. . .**_

"Now just twirl it with your forefinger, but let your wrist do all the work." Ocelot instructed.

Meryl spun his revolver around in her hand, displaying mild proficiency at gun play even at such an early stage. Ocelot's own limb began acting up again. The medication was wearing off. His limb pulsed dully and sent a wave of hurt clear up to his shoulder. This caused him to begin sweating again. Revolver snatched the PCA and pressed the button. Of all the pointlessly idiotic things that have ever happened to him in his entire life, and there were plenty, what he discovered next took the cake home, ate it, and fed it to the baby birds. The button was jammed. Ocelot used his thumbnail to try and pop the red button back into place, but that didn't work. It was stuck tight. The pain continued assaulting him. He felt his gown begin to press up against him uncomfortably.

"Are you okay?" Meryl asked as she continued to twirl the revolver.

"I think the damn morphine wore off already."

"That's impossible! You're just pretending to be in pain so they give you more drugs."

"Let's not turn this into a debate of ethics because I'm not kidding. Meryl, give me some more pain killers."

She stopped playing with the gun and seemed indecisive.

"Drugs go through me faster than ice cream. It's not my fault." Ocelot said. "Please, Meryl. At this rate I'll only need one more shot because doofus. . .I mean Snake is bringing me some Mend back."

Meryl nodded and proceeded to give him another shot of morphine.

"I'm sorry for hurting you earlier." she suddenly said. "Just remember what Snake had to say about it, though."

Ocelot sighed deeply, blowing out steam and beginning to feel a little soft.

"Maybe I deserved it." Ocelot said slowly.

Snake suddenly walked through the doorway with a strange looking case in his hand. Without having to be told Ocelot knew that it was Mend.

"Never mind." Ocelot said silently.

His friend was looking a bit worse for wear, though. Snake's uniform was covered in what appeared to be black grease mixed with thick oil.

"Sweet Jesus and loving God with candy corn in his jolly beard!" Ocelot shouted in joy. "Where the hell have you been?" he yelled in anger, changing moods at the drop of a dime.

"I had to climb up the damn elevator shaft." Snake said. "That's why I'm so filthy. I even climbed overthe elevator while I was at it. Anyway, mission accomplished."

"It looks like it's all in your beard." Meryl said.

"Yeah." Snake said, wiping at his face. "I might have to shave it off."

"Will it grow right back?"

"Within a week."

"That's good." Meryl said in approval. "It's hard to picture you without a five o' clock shadow. You'll always need at least a mustache.

"It'll be a cold day in hell when I decide to only have a mustache." Snake said. "They're not in style anymore. This rugged goatee works just fine."

He set the case on Ocelot's bedside table and keyed in the code. The case opened, as expected. Snake snatched another tourniquet from the medicine cart and removed one of the needles from the case of Mend. He wrapped the overdrawn rubber band around Ocelot's shoulder. Snake could hear his friends jaw pop as he clenched his teeth in pain.

"That's right." Ocelot said, feeling his heartbeat begin to accelerate. "Inject it right into the graft and ignore everything I say after that."

"Meryl, hold him down." Snake ordered.

She nodded and got up, pinning Ocelot to his bed. Revolver was taken by surprise at the amount of strength within her small frame. For the first time he noticed how fit and muscular her body actually was. He didn't get a chance to admire her physique for very long, though. Snake swiftly inserted the needle into the black crevice lined by staples and stitches. It went in deep. Ocelot screamed in sheer agony in a tone of voice Snake wouldn't have believed possible for him. Snake forced Ocelot's arm to be still and Meryl held him down without even breaking a sweat. Ocelot thrashed about violently. Tears streamed down his face. For a full minute he figured he'd just gone to hell.

But after that minute everything was cool. Very cool. Ocelot stopped struggling all at once and sank back into his bed. Meryl and Snake looked at each other for a moment and then at Ocelot. Revolver closed his eyes and smiled, ready to take it slow. Really slow. Like a snail's crawl. . .man. Snake let up on Ocelot as did Meryl. Ocelot opened his eyes and saw a cute little garden snake with a mullet and bandanna tied around it's head. Next to the Snake was a mischievous looking devil, but it didn't scare Ocelot. Nothing did anymore. The devil could do as it pleased because Ocelot was doing it right. He was taking it slow.

Meryl and Snake began to get very nervous as they watched Ocelot's reaction to the medicine. Snake got back to work by grabbing a cannister of gel and spreading it all along Ocelot's split wrist. It was a wonder it was still hanging on. The gel that came out of the tube was blue with many tiny white crystals inside the gooey substance. It also had a very distinctive smell to it. As soon as it went through Snake's nose it obliterated all the snot it found and made his nose hair fall out. From his nostrils it traveled directly into his brain. The front of Snake's head began to feel very comfortable. It was like someone had put Icy Hot on his brain. His eyes began flushing out tears and he regretted not having a surgical mask nearby. Meryl grabbed his hand and helped the tube along. Snake glanced up at her and saw she was covering her nose with her other arm and swaying slightly.

As soon as they finished the job they ran for the window and cracked it open. Both of them gasped for fresh air and breathed in deeply. Snake's head began to hurt slightly and he figured it was the same for Meryl. He capped the tube as tightly as he could and placed it back in the case. Snake closed the container and then returned his attention to Ocelot. The gel was actually starting to form into a second skin. With disgust he saw liquid dripping out of Ocelot's split. It was clear to him what was going on. Ocelot was healing. Rapidly. The place started to smell due to the stuff coming out of Ocelot's wrist.

Meanwhile, Ocelot was having the time of his life in la-la land. There was a major big rave going on and _he_ had actually been invited by _the_ Major Kusanagi. He didn't know who the hell that was, but Joseph "Red Guy" McBeth, his longtime imaginary war buddy, had informed him that this was some serious stuff. So off he went skipping through the magic gumdrop field until he actually reached a city which wasn't as fruity as the meadow he just went through. Things got a little bit more stable when he finally reached the rave. Amazingly enough, the cute snake with the mullet was there talking to Big Boss. Hey, wasn't he suppose to be dead? Play it slow. Play it cool and play it slow. Ocelot went over to Bigfoot, who was sitting at the bar. He asked the Sasquatch for some Crate, not quite understanding what was going on but still feeling it was vitally important.

Ocelot's mouth was open and he was drooling again. He occasionally made a gurgling noise as if he were talking to someone, but the sound was real weak so he probably wouldn't call attention to himself.

"What a stench." Snake said as he waved at the air around him.

"Ocelot, are you alright?"

He began forming spit bubbles with his lip.

"I think he's fine. Let's go, Meryl." Snake said. "It smells like fetid meat in here."


	3. Stress Relief

**Chapter 3 : Stress Relief.**

Rather than taking the elevator, Snake found a stairwell at the far east end of the hospital. It was there that he discarded his doctor's outfit, which felt somewhat liberating. He was still dirty enough to stink of grease, though. Meryl didn't seem to mind and followed him closely from behind. The stairwell was a generally depressing area. It wasn't clean. The light fixtures burned and flickered. Some of them weren't working at all which plunged certain landings into darkness. Snake thought it looked like something out of a survival horror game. Obviously the hospital staff preferred their elevators over taking the stairs. Snake grabbed his sweater and tugged on it, trying to feel warm as there was no heater in this area.

A few minutes later they reached the bottom of the stairwell. There they found a convenient door that led outside. It opened rather noisily. Outside it was just as pretty as it had been when Snake had arrived. He made his way back to his vehicle, lost in thought. What would happen if Ocelot's medication that prevented Liquid from taking him over were to suddenly fail? The mere idea troubled him greatly. Liquid and Snake never had been on speaking terms. When he thought about it further and more philosophically he figured they probably wouldn't even get along if they met in another life. He sighed deeply and realized he was worrying.

Meryl hadn't split up with him by the time Snake reached his car. Maybe she was hoping to get a ride to her vehicle because it was parked across the lot or perhaps she just wanted to draw out his company. Snake turned around to face her, leaning on the driver's door.

"What's wrong?" he asked. "Do you need a ride home, or something?"

She stood silent for a moment and Snake quickly figured out that something must have been wrong.

"Well, the truth is that I don't exactly have a home to go back to right now. Or a car for that matter." Meryl said.

"What do you mean?" Snake asked, baffled.

"While I was out the other day my apartment was burned down in some kind of freak accident. They're still trying to figure out what exactly happened. As for my car, it's in the shop getting repairs because I slid into an oncoming school bus after hitting a patch of ice. I can't seem to get the hang of driving on bad roads daily."

"You weren't taking out your anger on Ocelot, were you?"

"Not entirely, but I initially figured that an attempt on my life had been made. It didn't help that knowing he's actually living across town makes me incredibly paranoid. In the end, I only wound up wasting my time here, but I did apologize to him."

"So what are you going to do now?"

"I'm not sure. Maybe I'll have to stay with Campbell for a little while."

Meryl turned her head and looked off into the distance. Typical feminine behavior. She was restraining herself from crying in front of him. This was quite the pickle. He wondered if she had the funds to fix everything herself and decided that she probably didn't. The only paid gig she had that Snake knew of was her brief outing as a soldier. Being a rookie in the army didn't pay very well. In fact, Snake couldn't remember raking in the dough until he finally made it into the position he formerly held. Rank meant everything when it came to cash. He could definitely support Meryl for however long she was without a home and probably buy her a new one if it came down to it. It was odd that karma chose him to do the job, though. At least this wasn't going to last forever. Meryl's home could probably be fixed within a month. Three weeks with Meryl would be interesting and it would be nice to have a woman around.

Giving her a room wouldn't be too difficult as he could spare the guest room he had upstairs, which was a joke since he never had any guests. Snake wasn't even sure if the water ran into the bathroom in there. It was also across from the room that contained a bunch of cardboard boxes he'd been collecting over the years. Snake even had the box from his very first Outer Heaven mission, although he didn't dare sneak around in it anymore as it was on the verge of falling apart due to its age. Four bullet holes added to the nostalgic value of that particular item and he remembered when the box had incurred each one of them. When he wanted to reminisce with that box he'd gently wear it on top of his head like a hat while sitting down right after he locked all the doors, shoved his dogs in the shed, and covered up all the windows. If anyone were lucky enough to see him like that, they'd occasionally hear him sigh fondly as he remembered what it was like to be young.

Another room upstairs near the guest room was packed with a variety of useless unorganized stuff. Usually Snake was pretty keen on keeping his house all nice and tidy. This room was his guilty pleasure. At one time Snake had tossed his Sega Saturn in there to make room for another system. He never found it again. Snake tried to store his items in boxes, but he usually became very distracted whenever he was around cardboard. The only thing in that room that had a hint of order was a bookcase full of FHM magazines that was lodged away in the corner. Getting to them was more trouble than they were worth. If Meryl took the guest room, she'd be between two of his most unique idiosyncrasies. She would have to learn to live with them if she couldn't accept them.

"If you want, you could always room with me for a little while." Snake offered. "It'd be better than Campbell. I don't think he has any room for another person with all the junk he and his missus collect."

It was only after the words left him that he realized what a hole he had just dug himself into. He reminded himself that he was only being friendly and that's how he would remain. Hopefully nothing Earth shattering would happen for the brief time she would be rooming with him so she wouldn't get too involved with his personal life. Meryl snapped out of her depression and looked at him in stunned disbelief that was kept carefully in check by her fierce pride.

"You would be okay with that?"

"Sure. I have a spare bedroom I never use. You could bunk in there."

She smiled.

"I'd be a fool to resist. What woman wouldn't want to stay with the legendary Solid Snake and see his legendary way of living?"

"Quite a few." Snake replied honestly. "I've got a hell of a lot of baggage, Meryl."

"I know, but so do I."

"No, not like mine. This is completely against my better judgment."

"I'll try to prove you wrong."

"You can still stay with me if there's no other option. How much did you lose in that fire?"

"Everything." Meryl said. "It's not like I had much, though."

"So you don't have any spare outfits?" Snake said, gesturing at her clothes.

"No. I've been wearing this set for two days."

"What a pity." Snake said sarcastically. "You're already starting to reek."

"I smell like Ocelot." Meryl said. "Thank you, Snake."

The two of them got into Snake's vehicle. On the way back to Snake's home they held a small conversation about certain rules she'd have to follow. The first and foremost was to respect the gun cabinet. She could use his guns for recreational purposes, but only when he gave her permission. Some of the weapons he had he really shouldn't own. One such particular item was a flamethrower from World War II. Unlike half of his other arsenal, his ownership of the flamethrower was legal, but there were certain restrictions attached to having such a weapon. Still, he could only find one civilian use for it and that was using it to torch the ice off of his driveway. Snake usually saved that option for when he was feeling rather lazy.

Secondly, and this went without saying, she wasn't allowed to fiddle with his cardboard box collection. Snake wasn't even sure he wanted to share them with her as they were all kept in a room that had its own climate control device. They were also arranged ritualistically as if they were all his own personal circle of stones. There was also the issue about his damn heater and a couple of other restrictions, but Meryl easily accepted her boundaries. Once back at his house, Snake instructed her to make herself at home while he went to prepare the guest room, which was located upstairs. Meryl didn't mention anything about the chill that hung in the air, but Snake knew she probably felt it more than he did. He'd have to take a look at the heater a little later.

Upon opening the door to the guest room, a wave of stale air hit him. Besides the smell and some dust, everything was in order. There was a king sized bed, a wardrobe full of spare clothing that might fit Meryl, a twenty seven inch HDTV set in an entertainment center with a beanbag to lounge in, and an empty closet to his left. In addition to everything else he had a Nintendo hooked into the HDTV with about thirty games in the bottom cabinet of the entertainment center. He nearly put both of those items in his junk room but thanks to the sacrifice of his Saturn he had instead stored the collection here.

Meryl would probably feel comfortable staying in this room. The only thing missing was clothing in her size, but that really wouldn't present too much of a problem. She'd just have to dress like a dude until they went shopping. Snake's debit card was already trying to hide beneath his library card. He walked down into the living room and found Meryl sitting in his recliner giving attention to Dayne. He found this rather shocking as he normally couldn't get Dayne to sit still for anything. The dog had a severe case of ADD and the only thing it really focused on was racing. All his other sled dogs were sitting around her. Apparently she had made some new friends.

"Your room is upstairs." Snake announced.

"Alright." Meryl said. "Hey, what are the names of these dogs?"

"The biggest one is Joseph Theodore Roothmire the sev-I mean Blitz." Snake bit his bottom lip hard in concentration before he went on. "The one you are scratching is Dayne. Nikki is the only female in the group. Reece is the one laying down. Skyler is the oldest dog and he's the one sitting next to Reece."

"You named them well." Meryl said admirably.

"Thanks."

"No Buck, huh?"

"Not at this time. They're a fairly well behaved group. I haven't had too many problems with them."

"They don't even bark or growl at strangers."

"They don't have to. The stranger would be dead by now."

"You should have called one Metal and another Gear that way when you wanted to call them together you could say 'come here, Metal Gear!'. But you can't say it like I do, you have to stretch out the R at the end like you do."

"I do not stretch out R's." he said defensively, doing it anyway. "And I would never name anything after Metal _Gearrr. _Damn!"

"I'm only kidding." Meryl said.

Snake waved her off. She grinned and headed up to her room. His pack of Huskies followed her loyally, nearly tripping over each other as they clumsily formed a line behind Snake's guest. With them gone he collapsed on his couch, completely exhausted. In four hours he'd done a full days work. After a few moments of rest, he decided it was time to bathe. Snake was still a bit greasy and sweaty from climbing those elevator cables. During his tactical espionage action days being dirty wasn't something that came to his mind very often. For a long while after he quit Snake still retained that mentality. Now, however, things were a bit different.

Nothing beat a good shower and Snake didn't spare any expense on what went into his bathroom. His bathtub was like a spa and had several washing options on it. It was hand cut out of granite and just so happened to be the most expensive thing he had ever purchased in his entire life. Snake always figured he would remember how much the tub had cost, but he had forgotten over time. It was probably due to the initial shock of them telling him how much it was. He also had a large two person shower set up so that walking intothe shower was like going into a different room.

The least expensive thing in the room was his run of the mill toilet. He once had owned a computerized crapper from Japan, but it quickly began giving him problems because he couldn't figure out how to work the damn thing. Finally, there were two large baskets full of nice towels set up for easy access by both the bathtub and shower. After undressing he stepped inside the shower and washed himself off. The elevator grease stood up to his manly brand name shower poof for men and the accompanying shower gel so he switched to a traditional washcloth and a bar of soap. Snake was so engulfed in cleaning that he jumped in shock when he heard a knock on the shower door. He dropped the soap, which elicited a small grin from him. He pressed his front up against the wall and snuck over to the door. Snake couldn't help but open it tactically and then peer around the corner as if he were on a mission.

Meryl was dressed only in a wet towel and appeared to have just finished doing what he was doing.

"Yes?" Snake asked.

"I figured I'd bathe early since I haven't had the chance to do so for more than twelve hours."

"The pilot light isn't out, is it? Wait, does water even get into your room?"

"No and yes. Would you mind if I stole a pair of boxers from you?"

"You could fit yourself in those?"

"They're basically oversized panties and they would do for now."

"No wonder I always feel weird when I wear them." Snake muttered to himself. "Go right ahead and take a pair."

Without warning she suddenly became naked right in front of him. Meryl gasped and made an effort to cover herself, but the damage was already done. Snake looked passed her and saw that one of his dogs had grabbed her towel and unraveled it. Just by seeing the animals build Snake knew which one it was. Reece. He sprinted off happily, carrying the towel with him. Dayne poked his head in to survey the scene and quickly ran away, whining. Meryl covered herself and looked around frantically for a towel to do the job for her. She seemed hardly phased, but was blushing profusely.

Snake closed the door to the shower, reminding himself that he was almost old enough to be her father. His baggage swarmed around his mind like a colony of angry wasps. Meryl had found a towel with various Kanji symbols sewn into the fabric and knocked on the door again. Snake reluctantly opened it, but did not peer around the corner this time.

"Yes?"

"Do you think we should sleep together? For warmth, at least?"

They stood there, silent for a time. Hot water belted Snake's side. Steam rose up from the blue tiles. Snow continued falling outside. Somehow Snake didn't think she was coming on to him. Or was she? Perhaps she found the entire ordeal somewhat awkward and expected him to straighten that out for the both of them. He wasn't entirely certain if it was appropriate to do so just yet, so he squashed the temptation and assumed she was just worried about freezing, which Snake could definitely sympathize with. Snake closed the shower door, counted to five, and then opened it again.

"Ask that again." Snake requested.

Meryl seemed rather embarrassed.

"My room's cold. Is your heater on the fritz, or something?"

"Yeah, I thought I already told you about that. I've got to find the extended warranty on that piece of crap. I'm sorry, Meryl, but I don't think sleeping together would be a wise idea. I have some very bad PTSD nightmares from time to time. It's best not to wake me up during those episodes as I have a tendency to still believe I'm in the dream. I do have a multitude of spare blankets you could use, though. They're in the closet in my bedroom."

"I noticed that. I guess you don't like the cold, do you?"

"I've come to associate it with death."

"Alright. I'll pull some more blankets out of your closet."

"I should have that heater fixed by the evening. If not, we'll think of something." Snake said.

After that, she left. Snake breathed a sigh of relief. Since he was basically finished when Meryl intruded on him, Snake stopped his shower and walked out. Reece was sitting directly in the middle of the room, clearly not trying to hide himself. In his mouth was Meryl's _other _towel. Reece was wagging his tail enthusiastically, but not panting. Meryl peered into the room, looking a bit surprised. Snake snatched the towel away from Reece and tossed it over to Meryl. Reece, not being one to be beaten, jumped up and caught the cloth again, running out of the room.

That dog could really piss him off at times.

"Your dogs seem to have a mind of their own." Meryl said as her eyes wandered.

He quickly fetched a towel from the basket and wrapped it around his body.

"Don't ever. . ._ever_. . .say that again." Snake ordered.


End file.
